The history of jazz is in JD Allen’s horn. Barracoon, his 13th release, follows a modest format: the tenor saxophonist lays out a simple melody, which is then cannibalized, regurgitated, and fired by his new rhythm section of drummer Nic Cacioppo and bassist Ian Kenselaar, over which Allen further deconstructs his initial message. It’s a traditional approach with untraditional results. For though Allen is a classic player in the styles of Coleman Hawkins, Sonny Rollins, and Ben Webster, he never settles on that hallowed ground.
Slapped and cajoled, punched and pulled by his new compadres, Allen instead travels the spaceways, where he engages Impressions-era Coltrane, the more mellow molds of Frank Lowe, and the softer underbelly of Archie Shepp. Tune after tune, Allen and Co. play it fast and loose, recalling the past and the future more than jazz’s sometimes calculated present.